


Just Bleeds Together

by BloodEnvy



Category: Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Dreams and Nightmares, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-02
Updated: 2018-10-02
Packaged: 2019-07-23 16:32:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16162664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodEnvy/pseuds/BloodEnvy
Summary: Your having trouble sleeping; you keep having nightmares. so, one night, instead of trying to go back to sleep, you decide to keep Rocket company.





	Just Bleeds Together

_“NO!”_

Your brow furrowed, eyes squeezed tightly closed as Gamora’s voice echoed in your head.

_You were standing among the rubble again, blood wet and itchy on your cheek from the gash above your eye. Peter was reaching for the stone and Gamora was screaming a warning, and you felt your feet leave the ground as Peter’s hand closed around it. Everything around you exploded, surrounding you in ash, smoke and purple flame, and your back hit the ground as you were blown back, the rubble cut into your back._

_It was a struggle to sit up; the energy pulsed over you like you were caught in a rip, your fingers cut and bleeding as you gripped the rocks underneath you. Peter was screaming; it was like the energy was tearing him apart, burning away his skin. You could see Gamora shouting, too far away to hear her voice, but she was reaching out to Peter, struggling against the tide. You yelled… her name… a warning… you weren’t even sure… but there was no sound in your ears except the wind and the echo of Quill’s scream._

_You forced yourself to your feet; you felt as though you were standing in a hurricane, your eyes squinting against the wind. The rest of the world had disappeared; everything was smoke and dust and Quill’s voice, and then Gamora was crying out too, her hand clenched in his. You watched as the energy ripped through her as well; their skin was disintegrating, breaking away, and then Drax reached Peter as well, his bellow of agony joining theirs._

_You reached Gamora as Rocket’s paw found Drax’s hand, and the moment your fingers found hers you were overcome. Your entire body was rigid; it felt like you were going to be torn apart by the stones’ energy. You couldn’t scream; it felt like the only thing keeping you in one piece was your jaw clenched and your hand gripped tightly by Gamora’s._

_There was only one conscious thought in your mind._

_‘So, this is what it’s like to burn alive’._

You woke up suddenly, hair sticking to the cold sweat on your forehead. Your breathing was ragged, and you sat up quickly, chest heaving. Your head spun at the sudden movement. You brushed hair away from your face with a shaky hand, thankful that you apparently hadn’t woken up either Gamora or Drax.

This was the fifth night in a row you’d had that nightmare – memories of the Guardians’ defeat of Ronan – and they weren’t the first. Two nights ago, you’d taken a shot before bed in hopes that the alcohol would numb your mind enough that you’d be able to sleep peacefully. When that hadn’t worked, you’d taken a few more the next two nights.

Apparently, that had been a bad idea, because now your stomach churned uncomfortably.

Your sheets were tangled around your legs, and you kicked them off awkwardly. Swinging your feet off the bed to meet the cold floor of the Milano, you took a moment to steady yourself before hurrying quietly from the room. Heading for the bathroom, you managed to bring yourself to your knees in front of the toilet bowl before you lost the contents of your stomach.

Throat burning, you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and hit flush. Clinging to the sink, you pulled yourself to your feet, avoiding your reflection in the vanity as you rinsed out your mouth. Images from the dream flashed through your mind again, and you squeezed your eyes closed as if the pressure would push them from your skull.

Returning to the dark of your bunk suddenly seemed the worst idea; your bed no longer promised comfort. So instead, you wandered up the corridor to the main room of the Milano, hesitating a moment before climbing the ladder to the cockpit. You had no idea of the time, so you weren’t sure whether Peter or Rocket would be flying at this hour, and while the latter would surely be irritated, it was better than being alone right now.

It must have been earlier in the morning than you realized; you could hear Peter’s light snore as you passed his bunk. Sure enough, it was Rocket you found behind the Milano’s controls. He barely looked up when you entered, but you noticed surprise flash across his features briefly. He gave you a nod before turning back to the stars, and you noticed the half-built contraption in his paws. You were on your way to Knowhere, and clearly, it was an easy journey.

You took his silence as a welcome and moved to curl up in the co-pilot’s seat. Tucking your feet up on the edge of it, you turned your gaze to the stars in front of you, chewing the inside of your lip.

Neither of you spoke for a long time; the last thing you wanted to do was admit to Rocket that you couldn’t hack it like the rest of the team. Still, the memories hung in your mind as you watched the darkness outside, and you hugged your knees to your chest. You listened to the faint sounds of Rocket’s tinkering, and he cleared his throat after a while. You saw him cast you another glance out of the corner of your eye.

“You, uh…” he said awkwardly, eyes back on whatever it was he was building. “You’re up kinda early, aren’t you?”

“Guess that depends on what time it is.”

“For you? Little after three, I think.”

“Ah,” you nodded, smothering a yawn with the back of your hand. The ship was colder than usual, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, pulling the flannelette you wore over your tank top tighter around you. You also kind of wished you were wearing socks or something. “Then, yeah, I guess I am.”

“Yeah.”

You both fell silent again for a while, listening to the sounds of the Milano’s engines. You ran your fingers through the ends of your hair in a repetitive, calming motion. Rocket tossed whatever he was working on aside, and you had about a split-second to panic over it potentially exploding before it hit the floor. It clanged obnoxiously against the metal floor, and you winced.

“Christ, dude.”

Rocket smirked, tossing the screwdriver he’d been using after it. His smile widened when you winced again. “What are you doin’ up, anyway?”

You shrugged a shoulder, playing with a button on your flannel. “Couldn’t sleep. And Drax snores.”

“Right… well, just don’t touch anything, alright?”

You held a finger out over the console in front of you. “What, like this?”

“Don’t you dare, Y/N.”

Grinning, you withdrew your hand and held it up in surrender. “I’m kidding, man. Chill.”

“Yeah, yeah…”

You settled more comfortably into your seat, considering the co-pilot’s controls in front of you. “Are you and Quill ever going to let me learn how to fly this thing?”

“Why settle for less than perfection?” Rocket shot back with a cocky smile.

You snorted, shaking your head. “You think Quill’s perfect, huh? That explains why you’re always so annoyed with him hitting on Gamora.”

“Shove it, Y/N. I meant me, and you know it.”

You snickered, watching him out of the corner of your eye. “Don’t you think you would prove yourself the better pilot if you could teach a dumb Terran like me how to fly before Quill could?”

Rocket smirked again, adjusting the ship’s trajectory. “Maybe another night.”

“Alright,” you grinned triumphantly. His tone actually sounded genuine; a mix of amusement, and what might have been affection. “But I’m gonna hold you to that.”

Rocket ducked his head and cleared his throat again, hesitating before he spoke up again. “You look like shit, you know that?”

“Thanks,” you said, deadpan. You ran a hand through your hair self-consciously. He probably had a point – you hadn’t bothered trying to brush your sweat-soaked hair or wash your face before leaving the bathroom – but you didn’t really need him pointing it out. “You really know how to talk to a girl, Rocket.”

“I didn’t—” he began quickly, before he sighed. “I just meant… you don’t look like yourself.”

“Those are two very different phrases, Rocket,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, I didn’t exactly nail that.” Rocket replied, and you chuckled.

“You’re probably not wrong, though.”

“So…?”

“So… I forgive you?” you said uncertainly.

“No, I mean… what’s wrong with ya?”

“Oh. I… I had a bad dream.”

“Again?”

“Huh?” you turned to him, surprised. You hadn’t told any of the others about your nightmares. Hell, the only hint you’d given them that you weren’t sleeping properly was that you were usually more short-tempered first thing in the morning. But really, living with the Guardians meant no one would really notice. Most of them usually had you beat in early morning irritability. Still, of all the others on the Milano, you wouldn’t have guessed Rocket would be the first to notice. “What are you talking about?”

Rocket shrugged, hopping down from his seat and moving to consult one of the panels on the wall behind you. You weren’t sure whether he genuinely needed to check it, or if he was avoiding meeting your eye. “You haven’t been sleepin’ much. I took a guess why.”

“How do you know I haven’t been sleeping?” you asked. You crossed your arms over your chest defensively. “We don’t even share a bunk.”

“You’re an asshole when you’re tired.”

“Aww, thanks,” you said snidely. “You’re such a damn sweetheart, Rocket.”

“Case in point,” he shot back sarcastically, glancing at you over his shoulder. You flipped him off petulantly, and he grinned widely in response. “So? What’s stoppin’ you?”

“From sleeping? I… I told you. Drax snores, so…”

“And I’ve seen you sleep through Quill blasting Cherry Bomb on repeat,” Rocket pointed out dryly, his back to you again. “And you’re a shit liar, doll.”

“Did you just call me ‘doll’?” you asked, a confused smile curving your lips. Aside from the little Flora Colossus now undoubtedly asleep in Rocket’s bunk, you’d never heard Rocket give anyone a nickname before. At least, not an affectionate one; usually they were just sarcastic and insulting. You watched him duck his head, and you were suddenly sure that if he wasn’t covered in fur, you’d be able to see a blush on his neck. Your smile widened as he cleared his throat.

“Hey, you don’t want to talk about it? Great. I sure as hell don’t want to listen to it.” Rocket told you dismissively, scratching behind his ear. “I’m just… you’re distracting.”

Your eyebrow quirked. “From all the excitement of the graveyard shift?”

“Just…” he muttered gruffly, returning to his seat. “…you’re always distracting.”

“I…”

“You gonna tell me why you can’t sleep or not?”

“I thought you didn’t care?” you said with a smirk.

Rocket shrugged, tweaking the ship’s trajectory. “Yeah, well… if you don’t sleep now, you’re gonna sleep later. Which means Groot’ll be buggin’ the rest of the crew while I try and sleep too.”

“Since when do you care if he bugs everyone else?”

“Just… humor me, alright?”

“Fine,” you said, sighing. “I just… I keep seeing it.”

“Seein’ what?”

“The… the fight with Ronan,” you admitted, and you noticed how Rocket stiffened. His ear twitched once, and you realized too late that his mind must have gone to Groot. You bit your lip, immediately regretting mentioning it. For a split second, you considered just getting up and going back to your bunk just to escape the awkwardness. But the floodgates were open and you continued. “I keep feeling it. Feeling that… fire from the stone.”

“Ah…”

You cast a glance over at Rocket. Part of you had hoped for a declaration of bad dreams as well, a reassurance that you weren’t weak for dwelling on the pain. And when he didn’t speak again, that part of you spoke up, pushing it further. But your voice was quiet.

“It’s… I don’t know how you all deal with it.”

Rocket shook his head, eyes cast downward. You saw his paw reach over his shoulder to rub at one of the scars that peeked out from under his jumpsuit. You could barely hear his response. “It all just bleeds together after a while…”

“Shit… Rocket, I’m sorry,” you whispered awkwardly. “I didn’t think… God, maybe I really am an asshole when I’m tired.”

The raccoon chuckled quietly, but you could head an almost bitter edge to his voice. “So, were you lookin’ for Quill?”

“What do you mean?”

“Quill. Was that who you expected to find up here?”

“No.” you replied honestly, and Rocket’s ears flicked upward. “I heard him sleeping when I passed his bunk. Figured you might want the company, and I didn’t want to be alone.”

Rocket seemed to struggle to find something to say, and you smothered a yawn with your hand. His paws tightened on the Milano’s controls. “You should go get some sleep.”

“I…” you were a little taken aback by the sudden shift, but you nodded when you yawned again. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I should.”

You stood and stretched, surprised when you felt Rocket catch hold of your wrist as you moved past him. You stopped, looking down with a small, bemused smile.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” he replied, turning to look up at you and meet your gaze. He held it for a moment before turning away again, dropping your hand. “You, uh… you ever have problems sleepin’, you can come talk to me. You know, if you want.” He shrugged.

“Thanks,” you said softly, and you reached out to stroke a hand over the fur on top of his head. He stiffened momentarily, but relaxed into the touch, and you bent down to press a quick kiss to the crown of his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Rocket. Night.”

“Yeah… night.”


End file.
